Famous Last Words
Local authors reflect on the milestones - personal and global - of the 20th century

The Auburn I knew
By MARK SHAW

Auburn in the 1950s and '60s was a special place that I was proud to call home. Filled with warmhearted people who treasured old-fashioned values, there was a true sense of community spirit and a taste for the simple things in life. The pace of life revolved around a realization that each day was to be cherished and that friendship and helping others was as natural as a morning dew in the springtime.

My parents, Marvin and Vera Shaw, provided all the love a child could ask for, but there were many others who left their mark on me. Howard and Norm Rohm gave me my first job at their Chevrolet dealership on Main Street. I washed cars for a few bucks a week, but more than that, I saw how hard the mechanics and body shop repairmen worked to support their families. I was especially impressed by one man who made certain he was the very first to arrive at work each day. "The key to success," he told me, "well, you just have to work harder than anyone else."

Like many others, he was a graduate of Auburn High School, where I received a first-rate education despite there being less than a hundred students in my class. Teachers like Mrs. Teeter, Mr. Ford, and Mrs. Finchum took the time to work with me individually. From them I learned how to organize and develop my skills, lessons that aided me in college and beyond.

When the Auburn Red Devils basketball team, which nearly won the state championship in 1949, challenged an opponent, it was a community affair. The stands were packed with avid fans and when the game was away, a caravan of cars and vans followed the team bus providing images similar to the one in the film "Hoosiers."

Fierce rivalries with the daunting Garrett Railroaders produced war-like football games preceded by spirited bonfire pep rallies. Auburn could lose every game of the season, but they better not lose to Garrett or the season was a disaster.

Every fall, the DeKalb County Fair ingested the area with vigor. The courthouse square became a melting pot of young and old, all bent on a single goal: having fun. One year I won a tiny little Pomeranian that I called "Lucky" in the Lions Club raffle. By the tone of my celebration, you would have thought I had become a millionaire.

Lessons learned in Auburn stay with me to this day, especially one dealing with how to overcome disappointment. During the summers, I toiled away as a good-field, no-hit shortstop for the lowly Andres Insurance baseball team. Little League was an important family function in Auburn and the focal point of my world even though our team lost every game one year.

No matter the losses, coaches told me to keep trying. When it came time to choose the All-Star squad, every team had to be represented and I was selected as the best player on the worst team. I never got to play during the tournament, but I was so proud to join other kids from Rubber Toys, Expressways, and Farm Bureau Co-op. Forty-two years later, a photo of that All-Star team hangs on the wall in my writing studio next to one of Don Larsen, the great Yankee pitcher who collaborated with me on a book about his perfect game in the 1956 World Series. I also savor having kept the Ted Williams Ball Hawk three-finger mitt that helped me spear grounders at shortstop.

Memories of Auburn always bring a smile to my face. At last count, I have lived in more than 25 cities around the globe, but I always tell people my years spent in Auburn were the among the very best of my life.

Mark Shaw is a 1963 graduate of Auburn High School. He calls himself a reformed lawyer turned author with eight published books to his credit. He said that achievement continues to astound high school teachers who recall him as a C+ student who could barely spell his name.

Putting down roots
By BARBARA OLENYIK MORROW

Earlier this fall I accompanied a group of young people to Wesley Park Apartments, where they planned to visit a church member who was ailing.

As the middle-schoolers spilled out of vans, I popped the history question of the day: Who or what was Wesley Park?

Shoulders shrugged. Eyes rolled.

Nobody had a clue.

I can't claim much in the way of superior knowledge on this subject. I moved to Auburn 20 years ago this fall, and - as best I can recall - a dozen years passed before I learned that Wesley Park was this community's founding father.

My knowledge about Mr. Park hasn't increased significantly since then. But my affection for his land - for this corner of northeastern Indiana that he settled in 1836 - has. I came here as a twenty-something, thinking I'd look the place over, stay a little while, and then move on to the big cities to which I was accustomed - St. Louis, Detroit, Dayton, Louisville. Instead, I discovered that what the poet William Carlos Williams said was true: "Nothing can grow unless it taps into the soil."

I tapped into Mr. Park's soil, almost in spite of myself.

And I've grown. And found a home.

From the start, I liked the outward appearance of my new home - with its courthouse square, stately homes on North Main Street, tile-roofed library, imposing brick auto museum.

I liked the people, too. They were friendly, courteous, welcoming. But I had met likable in every community in which I had lived up to that point. I was drawn to Auburnites in a superficial way, though not - I was certain - in any lasting way.

But just as gentle spring rains make corn and soybeans rise from Hoosier soil, the people of Auburn watered me. A stubborn bunch, they sprinkled me with kindness nearly every chance they had. I confess that initially I tried to shield myself from their hospitable ways. I tried to remain indifferent to their deep-seated decency

But I could remain indifferent only so long.

Especially to Martha Falka, whose greeting of "Howdy doody, dear" on hot summer nights outside her cramped stand on Ninth Street was as pleasing to my ears as her caramel corn was to my watering mouth.

Or to Bob Kokenge, whose wry humor and attentive service still make my visits to his hardwood-planked hardware store - with its much-revered inventory of dustpans and cable wire and Tootsie Rolls - a favorite adventure.

Or to my neighbor Nancy Derrow, whose grandmotherly ministrations to my firstborn son, and his three brothers who followed, lightened my heart - and on many days, my load.

Auburnites watered. I grew.

And as my love for the community and its people deepened, so did my roots. Down they went into this rich, black soil. Farther down than I have ever put roots before.

Then, a funny thing began to happen. I found myself wanting to know everything about this new home. I wanted to know where the old Romeiser's Drugstore was located and where Charles Eckhart had lived.

And who McIntosh - the name carved in stone on the old Auburn High School - was.

And why black, not gray, squirrels scampered up and down the maple trees outside my window.

And when the first "Free Fall Fair" came to town.

At times, I feel like the child who can never get enough candy. I, Auburn's adopted child, now wish to know so much about this city, this corner of Indiana, this speck on the planet. Will I ever be able to soak up enough information?

Probably not.

But the more I learn - about where Cedar Creek flows and who built the ball diamonds at Thomas Park and when the Old Brick Road turned to asphalt - the deeper my roots go. The more at "home" I feel.

"We need to know where we are, so that we may dwell in our place with a full heart," the writer Scott Russell Sanders, himself a Hoosier transplant, has written.

It has taken me the last two decades of the twentieth century to know where I am. It is in this place, in the new millennium, where I most likely will die.

But I dwell here today with a full heart - pleased with what Auburn is, looking forward to what it will become, dedicated to learning more about what it has been.

Which is why I'm off now to do research.

On Wesley Park, of course.

Just passing through
By JOHN MARTIN SMITH
DeKalb County Historian

Remove not the ancient landmark, which Thy fathers have set.
- Proverbs 22:28

The turn of a century is easy to celebrate but difficult to grasp. The turn of a millennium is difficult to celebrate and impossible to grasp.

As I reflect on this millennium from a historical perspective, I realize the shortness of our lives in the big picture - just a few steps on the sands of time.

I wonder. Who came before us? What have they left for us? Who will follow us? What will we leave for them?

My passion is local history. Our little world is DeKalb County, Indiana, an artificial political unit which was prescribed for governance purposes when our state was formed in 1816 and our county was formed in 1837.

There is history everywhere I look. Many don't see it. Many don't care. To me, however, history is to be eagerly sought and learned. It enriches life. It provides me a sense of geographic and ethnic memory and presence. To some, it provides lessons for the future.

As ] travel about DeKalb County, I see evidence of those who passed through before us.

In Smithfield Township, I can see where the skeleton of an American Mastodon was unearthed in 1898. This creature roamed our area 10,000-70,000 years ago. It weighed 5-6 tons, stood eight to 10 feet at the shoulders, and ate leaves, twigs, conifer cones and needles, and swamp plants. One of the best specimens ever unearthed, its skeletal remains are now on exhibit at Carnegie Institute at Pittsburgh, Pa. This prehistoric creature was just passing through ...

On up the road I can see the remnants of an Indian mound consisting of an earthen ring about 100 feet in diameter. This was probably built by the Potawatomi Indians in the 1500-1600s. These native Americans were just passing through ...

When. I go from Auburn to Waterloo and on up to Hamilton on Old 427, I know that this winding, crooked road began as an old Indian trail. What did the Indians feel? What would they think of traffic along this road? We travel the same route as the native Americans but at a different time, for different purposes, and by a different means. They were just passing through ...

As I leave Hamilton and head south, I turn east and pause at the Fish Creek Bridge where the Houlton Covered Bridge once stood. There, I gaze into the creek and look for white cat's paw pearly mussel, an endangered species found only in DeKalb County, Indiana. Will they survive? How long? This little known minor species is just passing through ...

As I continue east on the Bellefountaine Road, I come to the Eddy Cemetery. This was the road that our early pioneers - the Houltons, the Lees, the Smiths, and many others - traveled to enter DeKalb County from Ohio and points east. Many of them lie buried in the Eddy Cemetery. I think of the Thornton Wilder play "Our Town" where the persons buried in the town's cemetery come back to life and tell their stones. What would these pioneers have to say? What would they think of us now? These pioneers were just passing through ...

I then head south to Butler and take a walk through the abandoned buildings of The Butler Co. The Butler Co. existed from 1894 through 1998 - a long corporate existence. In my mind I can hear the clatter of machines used in manufacturing windmills, which were important in providing power for the agriculture industry of our country. Wind power cost nothing and did not pollute. The Butler Co.'s workers were just passing through ...

Even a short drive in most any direction in our county results in the crossing of a railroad or an abandoned railroad. Transportation was vital to the development of DeKalb County industry. The remaining railroads and interstate highway are essential to our present industry and will continue to be a major factor in retaining and attracting industry. Many railroads crisscrossed DeKalb County over the years. They came and went, merged and reorganized. Three very viable railroads are left. Our railroads continue to be just passing through ...

When I drive through Waterloo, I think of the excitement generated by the Waterloo television station. All local broadcasts were live. Sometimes participants were pulled off the street or recruited from Dunn's Dairy Bar across the street. The television station eventually moved to Fort Wayne and is now CBS affiliate Channel 15 WANE in Fort Wayne. The Waterloo television pioneers were just passing through ...

Corunna was an engaging place in its heyday. The Milo J. Thomas General Store sold everything from eggs to buggies and housed the town's bank, telephone exchange, and electrical generating facilities. Now this old store is mostly vacant. Milo J. Thomas was just passing through ...

Newville was the location of a covered bridge over the St. Joe River and the Newville Academy, an institution of higher learning. I often refer to it as that "wild border town on the river." It is now the location of the American Knights of the Ku Klux Klan. I know that the Klan was once strong in DeKalb County and the State of Indiana. The Ku Klux Klan is just passing through ...

Garrett was created by rail transportation. It was platted by the Baltimore and Ohio Railroad as a division point. The town is named after John Garrett, who was president of the railroad at the time. Its streets are named after other railroad officials. Its massive brick depot is gone, replaced by a nondescript building. However, it does retain its wonderful Art Deco Silver Screen Theatre. Its railroad museum plays tribute to the town's railroad history. CSX and Amtrak trains are now just passing through ...

At St. Joe I see the little building that once housed the St. Joe News, published in recent years by Ted Haberkorn. He courageously crusaded for several years against school reorganization which has contributed substantially to the decline of many of our smaller towns. Has he been proven right or wrong? It may not matter now. It does matter, though, that he had the freedom and the courage to express his opinions. Ted Haberkorn and the St. Joe news were just passing through ...
Spencerville is the location of one of the few covered bridges remaining in northern Indiana. The last of five covered bridges built in DeKalb County, the Spencerville Covered Bridge has been well maintained by our county commissioners and highway department. For nearly 125 years our citizens have passed through its portals in buggies, wagons, and automobiles. We are still just passing through our covered bridge ...

When I drive up the lane to my home, I sometimes think of the Cornell Family who came to DeKalb County in 1840. They sheltered escaped slaves who were traveling the route of the Underground Railroad. The Cornells and other citizens of DeKalb County had the courage to do what was right, even though it was illegal in accordance with the law of the time. The Cornells and those nameless Negroes were just passing through ...

As I move about Auburn on a daily basis, I see history in nearly every block. Thomas Marshall, then governor of Indiana and later vice president of the United States, was here when the courthouse was dedicated. I think of the lawyers and judges who passed through the doors of the courthouse and walked up those massive granite steps. As I pass through the east stairwell, I see the photograph of the Regulators who lynched a man in 1859. All of these important people were just passing through ...

When I go into the Auburn House for lunch, I think of this building as the original factory building where the Kiblinger and McIntyre automobiles once were built. W.H. McIntyre was a visionary who probably built an automobile in Auburn as early as 1895. He was a major player in the national buggy, truck, and automobile markets. He dared to innovate with large trucks and small cars. He made a difference. W.H. McIntyre was just passing through ...

I am always awed by a walk through the Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum and National Automotive & Truck Museum. I think of those who have passed through - E. L. Cord, Alan Leamy, Gordon Buehrig, Fred and Augie Duesenberg. I also think of those hundreds of workers who built the cars which we now revere. They were just passing through ...

Our people have produced what many people now collect: automobiles - Auburns, Cords, Duesenbergs, Kiblingers, Mclntyres, Imps, Zimmermans, etc.; Auburn Postcards; Auburn Rubber Toys; Auburn Model Trains; Butler Windmills; Creek Chub Baits; Agar Bugs; Garrett Rubber Toys; and Butler Windmills.

These were products of our ancestors' imagination, dreams, and hands. Those people who created these products are gone but their fruits remain. They were just passing through ...

We have preserved many historic buildings. We are known throughout the country, indeed the world, for our history. Otherwise we would be just another of the 28 towns and cities through the nation named "Auburn," many of which are much larger than our Auburn.

I lament the loss of many historic buildings in recent years:
* The Court Theatre, a wonderful atmospheric ceiling theater designed by Straus & Straus Architects (Were a dozen parking spaces worth this gem of a building?);
* The DeKalb County Jail (The roof could have been repaired. Could not a good use of the building been found?);
* The Baltimore & Ohio Depot at Garrett (What a wonderful museum this could have been! A good example of corporate irresponsibility on the part of the CSX Railroad.);
* The New York Central and Wabash depots at Butler ( What has been done with the land? Nothing! More examples of corporate irresponsibility!);
* The Bevier Building at Waterloo, a three-story building that once housed Bevier and Co. which gathered, processed, and sold various herbs used for medicine purposes (Now the location of a bank, could not another location been found for a bank?);
* The __________ house in Auburn (What a waste to raze a handsome old house and such a significant landmark on South Main Street).
Who built these buildings? What were their dreams? What would they think of us now? They were just passing through ...
Many of our remaining buildings may be threatened:
* the Power Plant at Auburn;
* the Odd Fellows Building on the Square in Auburn;
* the Carnegie Library at Butler;
* the Butler Co. at Butler;
* the Sacred Heart Hospital at Garrett.

Should these buildings be preserved? Who is going to lead the effort? Who cares? Who should care? We can preserve them if we want to! We too are just passing through ... .

What would other communities do to get what we still have? Some structures should be preserved - others should not. Who should decide? Why should we preserve buildings? To me they provide the basis for our memories, our traditions, our roots, our essence.

What are we destroying or failing to preserve that future generations of DeKalb County citizens will wish we had preserved? Are we building any new landmarks? Probably a few. The Auburn Electric Department Building on DeKalb County Road 29 may be an example, but does its construction justify the destruction of its predecessor?

What obligation do we have to our history and our built and natural environment, as we pass through this little area of the world?

NOTE: I hope this essay might stimulate further reading and study of local history and landmarks in my "History of DeKalb County," where more can be found on each subject. These books are still available for purchase at the National Automotive & Truck Museum (NATMUS) or at my law office at a price of $39 for the two-volume set and $59 for the three-volume set. They are also available at all public and school libraries in DeKalb County.)

People make us great
By JANE KEMPF

For the last half of the 20th century, this area has been my home, and had you asked me then what to expect, I'd not have dreamed of such changes as we have experienced in Auburn on the brink of a new millennium. I love DeKalb County and lived for a while in suburban Sedan with a Waterloo address, and covered a news beat including Garrett, Butler, Waterloo, Corunna, Spencerville and St Joe, but most of our Indiana lives have been lived in Auburn, and Auburn is what I know now.

When we moved here from Philadelphia, there was no I-69 and Main Street was jammed with lake traffic from noon until after dark on Fridays and Sundays. You could ride uptown on your bike and have an ice cream soda at Wildermuth's Drug Store or sip a coke at Stamen's. You could find almost anything you needed in the way of dry goods at Schaab's Department Store, and I still miss Al Engelhart of Stern's at Garrett, who knew exactly what dress was right for you and kept it in the back until you showed up on his doorstep. What is now a bustling business bonanza on the city's west side was completely rural.

Farmland surrounded Auburn. People built their homes one at a time, but more and more people learned to admire the city for its tree-lined streets, its well-maintained infrastructure, and most importantly, its people, and chose to live here. Almost to an individual, people take pride in their Auburn homes, which is obvious if you drive down any street. The developers came in response to the demand and at the end of the century, Auburn has lovely developments to the north, northeast and east.

For many years the only apartments you could find in town were in individual homes or a small complex built by Rollie Muhn on Seventh Street. Now we have nice Graber apartments dotting the east side. We have a new apartment complexes to the west and south where youngsters can find affordable housing and old people can downsize. Burt Dickman's mobile home parks have been well-managed and maintain an excellent reputation for their residents.

Auburn's North Main Street was charming when we moved here and is charming still. The beautiful dwellings lining Main Street from one end to the other are just samplings of what can be found almost anywhere in a city whose people take pride in their homes.

Everything "growed," like Topsy. Government made it attractive to industry and so industry came. Jobs brought more people. More people brought more stores, more gas stations, more restaurants, and provided more and better services. Eckhart Public Library in Auburn is a shining example of what's right with Auburn.

We grew apace, luring manufacturers, commercial enterprises, and more and more people who wanted Auburn to be home. A thriving business population gives us jobs close to home and gives our children the opportunity to work close to their families. I admire Mayor Norman Rohm and the boldness he showed in making sure city services kept up with the demands of this growing city. I think he "bit the bullet" and did what had to be done. We have good streets, adequate sewers, and fine electric, water, fire and police departments.

We've had some excellent mayors over the years, people with vision and fortitude. Running a city gets harder and harder, but when your leadership is bold, they make it easier for those who follow. Making sure you have a working storm sewer is a little like having to put on a new roof when you'd much prefer to take a Caribbean cruise. But without that sewer, your house washes away ... and when the cruise is over, it's over for good. Fortunately, if you can't sail the high seas, you can have a snug house. For recreation, enjoy any one of several excellent Auburn parks, go roller skating, swimming, to the YMCA, or to Northway Cinema for a good show.

Living in a burgeoning city is not all beer and skittles. Planners are limited in what they can do to alleviate traffic along Seventh Street, but putting in Grandstaff and Potter drives and extending 15th Street was a real plus for people living both north and south. Seventh Street is always going to be a bottleneck because of space, and because it is State Road 8, the city has little say in how it is managed.

Thank you to the state for the signals out by I-69, but perhaps we should hound Indiana's governor to roust the state highway department demanding a street light near the hospital at Duesenberg Drive. I hear the state did a "study" and determined we didn't really need a light there. Tell those guys we didn't get counted because we all avoid that intersection like the plague, turning the wrong way so we can at least get into a lane of traffic then turn twice more to get where we are going. That's insane! Here's to a traffic signal at that intersection in 2000.

Its residents make DeKalb County great. These are the people who consistently overshoot their goals for giving to the United Way, who built a hospital with donated funds, who enlarged the YMCA with donations, who coughed up enough money to build a community swimming pool and are still contemplating ways to develop Rieke Park. We have the world-famous Auburn Cord Duesenberg Museum. Private money and a public conscience seem to be the norm in DeKalb County.

No essay on the 20th century in DeKalb County would be complete without observing how the school systems, both public and private, have grown to accommodate a blossoming population. The quality of our graduating students speaks volumes for the excellence of our schools.

We became more sophisticated through the century, but no corner of the country could fail to do so with the advent of television. Our people come here from east, west, north and south. They come from Canada and Mexico, from South America and Europe, from Africa and Asia, bringing with them the cultures of their backgrounds and enriching us all because of it.

It was a wonderful hundred years for DeKalb County. May the next hundred be filled with people who love this area as we have. And may you count a thousand blessings in the 21st century!